Army of Me (Let the 73rd Hunger Games Begin! Sequel)
by cloved
Summary: The 73rd Hunger Games are over, and the youngest winner in history is in critical condition. Once she wakes Andy Phelan will have to find out how to survive outside the Games and in a more dangerous job than Tribute: Victor. With enemies at every corner and surprises in the next weeks, will she be able to survive in her new life? The games aren't over, they're just beginning.
1. I never wanted to be this tragic

_**"Believe me, Cassio. I never wanted to be this tragic."  
**Anna Dressed in Blood - Kendare Blake_

* * *

**Woosley pov**

She's thirteen. And she has some of the worst wounds for a victor in Hunger Games victory. She's not even conscious. I look at her immobile body, a respirator strapped to her. I lean forward in the chair, my hands clasped, I'm leaning on them.

She's had two surgeries; one for her head and one for her stomach. The one for her stomach happened whilst she was on her way to the capitol, the one for her head happened in between.  
Her stomach was ripped open, her vital organs damaged, her skull crushed in, her hands partially destroyed. The list continues.

"Woosley?" Andy's main doctor inquires. I look at her, and she beckons me to her private room, just for tributes and mentors. I look at her, then back at Andy's sleeping form. She hasn't been fixed yet, so she's still covered in bruises, and scrapes, and a whole fucking list of things that shouldn't have happened to her.  
For once she actually looks her age. A young, tab girl with a dusting of freckles over her broken nose, with dark circles under her closed eyes, and deep cuts covering the right side of her face. When she's awake she looks much older than 13, time weighs her down, and for the umpteenth time I wonder what had already happened to her that made her that way.

"She'll be all right." I look at the doctor. Her name is Angela, she's a small and slight woman, with kind, brown eyes. Her skin is a tarnished gold colour, but other than that she looks quite professional. No crazy Capitol clothes, as it's a hospital for the victor, no make-up. She looks like a normal person, except the long artificial eye-lashes attached to her eye lids. But they're easy to ignore. I wonder how she managed to be so normal in such a distorted world of vibrant colours and high-pitched noises.

I nod, and she leads the way to a darkened room. On the walls are x-rays and sketches, a picture or two.  
"I assume you know why I've brought you here?"  
I look at her, mutely.  
She smiles once more. I think I like her. "Whenever a victor's injuries are as serious as Andy's, they sometimes need, um, adjustments." She fumbles over her words, something I've noticed she does whenever she speaks. "As Andy is, um, in a coma, she's obviously not able to accept said adjustments. And I suppose even if she wasn't awake she'd need someone to do it for her, as she is still, technically, a minor." Yet she's old enough to kill people.  
I nod. " Okay."

The doctor points to an x-ray. "We'll start at the beginning. You remember just after she'd burnt the food? Another tribute, um," she furrows her brow and snaps her fingers whilst conjuring the name from her mind, "Julian. Julian found her."  
Yeah, I remember. It was a blessing for the District Two tribute to die. But he wasn't killed before inflicting his own damage.  
"He stood on Andy's right hand."  
She looks at me for a second before nodding. "That's right. But I was watching while it happened. I do it every year to asses the injuries of the tributes most likely to win. And what I thought wasn't nearly as bad as it is."

Oh crap. This is just the beginning of bad news. Andy's succumbed to a number of serious injuries. "So... how bad is it?"  
"Her hand and fingers were crushed. And I mean crushed." She points to an x-ray, and I see what she means. Her fingers are covered in cracks, every inch of them.  
"Admitted, it could have been worse, but she was very wise how she went around with it. She and the boy Gads made a kind of wrap to keep it in place, so at least they had some common sense. This has made the most part of her hand and forefinger salvageable. But the wrap, also made the rest of her fingers un... salvageable."

I blink at her in confusion. How could the wrap Andy made fix and break her hand. "What? How, how did that even happen, how does that even work?!  
The doctor sighs. "It helped her hand, but her last three fingers set in the wrong way, while they were still broken. They've fused back together in such a way that Andy wouldn't even be able to use them."  
"Okay..." I get a feeling she's going to say something more  
"We're removing her fingers."  
My eyes widen in shock, and I grab onto the nearest table. How could I not have predicted that? I suppose I should have, but still... The removal of three of her fingers, at least it's not on her writing hand. Will she still be able to use her hand?  
"Okay... Okay... Does she, um. Will she have-"  
"Replacements? Yeah. And that's, um, why I brought you here. You need to choose whether to sign for her or not."  
"What, now?!" Andy's still in a coma, shouldn't she have a say?  
"Unfortunately. I tried to get more time for her, but my superiors like to do things quickly." I'm surprised at the tinge of bitterness in her voice, and look at the doctor in shock. Her kind brown eyes are sympathetic. I realise that she may be one of the Capitol citizens not completely brainwashed.  
"Okay... Okay. Give me the sheet." I hold my hand out whilst she looks an another table, full of sheets. She picks one up, and almost hands it to me before realising that it's not the right one. She looks again and passes one to me.  
I scan through the details, and check it says something to do with fingers added to the right hand, and then I sign. I write my name in the neighbouring box, and then read the next. RELATION TO PATIENT:. What do I write?  
"Um, what do I write here?" I point to the box.  
"Oh," she waves her arm in front of her, and I get a glimpse of a tattoo under her doctors coat. 'Anything. 'Mentor', 'Friend'. Whatever you think is suitable."  
I'm not sure that Andy considers me as a friend, so I write 'Mentor'.

"Is that it?" I ask.  
"Not quite. Do you recall the final fight? One tribute had a spiked mace?" Yeah, I remember. I remember Andy bleeding out due to the numerous perforations left by the bite of the weapon. I nod.  
"The mace hit the edge of her left hand."  
Oh no. Not her left hand. I put a hand to my temple. "She lost more fingers, didn't she?"  
"We couldn't fix them." She sounds apologetic.  
"How many?"  
"Four. But with the fake ones it won't be like they're even gone... Maybe." SHe acts though she has to say this to convince herself. This doctor is somewhat down-to-earth. I like her, surprisingly.  
"Give me the sheet." I look at the sheet, and read some of it, I'm not even sure why but I do.

NAME: Andrea Carmel Phelan  
AGE: Thirteen  
WOUNDS: Crushed right hand: forefinger and thumb salvageable. Crushed left hand; extensive damaging of four fingers, unable to repair. Surgery performed to right leg due to stab wounds. Plastic surgery to face, torso, arms and legs due to scar damage. Extensive surgery and plastic surgery to torso; torn apart by multiple mace wounds, surgery to replace skin and fix scars. Multiple transfusions.

The list goes on. I sigh, and run a hand through my hair. She's thirteen. Thirteen, and she's needed surgery to repair practically every inch of her body. Thirteen and she's in a coma. Thirteen and she's killed people. It doesn't seem fair.  
"She's just thirteen." I say, to myself more than anything.  
Angela surprises me though. "I know." I look at her, and she's looking at photographs taken of Andy's wounds. "Too young to have gone through all she has."  
I look at her in shock. Most Capitol citizens- and by most I mean the vast majority- seem to forget that the Hunger Games is real. And that people actually die because of it. Apparently the good doctor doesn't.  
She notices me looking, because she laughs and says "Don't look at me like that. Most people in the Capitol... Don't see the effects of the Games. The casualties. They see entertainment. But... I've seen a lot of victors. I've even seen the not so lucky tributes. Seeing the victors... While they're healing..." She seems deep in thought, and very troubled, "Well let's just say it changes you. It makes an eighteen year old seem ten. You were like it."

I look down at the mention of my Games. I recovered pretty quickly, nowhere near as long as it will take Andy, by anybody's predictions But the Games still mentally change anyone.

"So... how young is Andy to you?" I say quietly.  
"A child. Too young, anyway. Too young to have fought so many. I'm scared to think of the psychological effects she's bound to have."  
It's true. I had nightmares. I still do. So does Johanna. I don't know what victor doesn't. But it'll be even worse for Andy, thirteen and killer. What she'll think of herself... it just doesn't seem fair.

I look at the sheet in my hand, and sign it quickly, I want it out of my sight as soon as possible.

I start to leave, but stop momentarily. "When will she wake up?"  
She looks up, and runs a hand through her blonde hair.  
"From what… I can see.." She taps her fingers against her desk twice, "Some time. Her blood loss is quite extensive, it may take two days, it may take two months. But… the Capitol has ways to wake people, and it will happen to her in about a month."  
I frown, "Why?"  
"They'll make her." She says. "She's almost fourteen. And they'll love it if she's crowned on her birthday. So if I were you, Woosley, I'd figure out what to say when she wakes up."

This doctor is good. I hope the President doesn't find out that she secretly had doubts when it comes to the Games, it won't end well for her if he ever did.

I nod. "Thanks for the heads up."  
She smiles, her kind eyes twinkling. "Anytime."

* * *

_**Ha ha ha ha the sequel. woo. Anyway, cause it's the first one I dont really have anything to say apart from it'd be really cool if you messaged me with your thoughts about Andy's wounds, and give me a guestimate about when you think she'll wake up, if you get it right you can give me something you want me to put in a future chapter like a character or quote or anything.**_

_**OH AND I NEED SOME DISTRICT 7 PEOPLE. SO if you have an aching desire to have you character or something be a victor just tell me and I'll probably use them.**_

_**SO, replies to the last chapter:**_

_**Graceaga: I think it did, thank you. And I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations :)  
**__**Rdude1213: I hope so too :) Oh god I cant believe people cried at it  
**__**HpHgPjGone: Thank you!  
**__**TributeAndProud: Thanks, it means a lot :)  
**__**LoopyToucan: I'm sorry I'm really sorry  
**__**mtdelaney: Maaaadddyyyyy. Ah I love you, you're the best, and let's hope his reaction was adequate :D  
**__**Theuglyduckling492: wooooo, thanks man :)  
TheBiohazardVictim: I WILL kill you with feels**_

_**(And hey, the first part is almost at 200 reviews! Yay!)**_


	2. You're no better than they say

_**"I don't think that you've got to pretend**_  
_**I see God in birds and Satan in long words**_  
_**But I know what you need in a friend**_  
_**So now when I leave you, I hope I won't see you"**_

_Brand New - Sink_

* * *

**Woosley pov**

"Yes. Yeah I know, Johanna," I rub my temples, Johanna Mason may be one of my closest friends but it doesn't stop her from being one of the most aggravating people I've ever met.  
"Woosley, it's been two weeks," She says on the other end of the phone, back home.  
"You think I don't know that?!" I snap, but regret it when I hear her draw her breath on the other end. I run a hand through my hair.  
"I know it's been two weeks, Jo. I'm the one stuck here," I say quietly.  
"I know you are, Woosley, but her family's getting worried. Screw that, the whole fucking district is getting worried!" I can almost hear her throwing her arms about until she rests with her head in her hands  
"Well what do you expect me to do about it?! Her body is healing, we can't rush the process." Great, now I'm spitting out what the doctors are telling me. "Look Jo, I want her to wake up just as much as anyone, but we have to give her time."

I can hear her sigh dejectedly, but can sense she's giving up, for now at least. "Okay," she says, "I get it. Just.. Call me when something happens, okay?"  
I smile slightly, "You know I will."  
She stays silent for another moment, but I know that she has something more to say so I don't put down the phone. "Woosley," she begins, almost hesitantly.  
"Yeah, Jo?" I ask quietly, reaching over for the alarm clock on the side on my bed. 3.20 am. Johanna has the crappiest timing I've seen in anyone.  
"Are you… okay?" She asks me.  
I blink, and sit up slowly. "I'm fine." I say stiffly. I can't afford to let on how much Andy's current condition is bothering me. But seeing her, lying there in a coma, completely helpless… it's just hard. There's no other way to put it. It's so damn difficult. And the worst thing is that I can't even do anything. I'm powerless.  
''Are you sure-"  
"Yes, I'm freaking sure, Jo." I say, making sure she knows this conversation is over.  
She's silent for a moment. "Okay."  
I look up in shock, it's not often she gives up. "Okay?" I ask.  
"Okay. You said you're okay, I believe you." She sounds genuine.  
"Oh. Okay."  
"You said it again."  
"I did?" I ask, squinting in the dim light. 3:21 am.  
"Yeah." She doesn't say anything for a moment. "Shouldn't you be asleep? I know I'm crappy with timing, it's probably night for you."  
I smile. "Yeah."  
"Go to bed then, idiot." She hangs up, and I'm left holding the phone and laughing to myself.  
I put the phone on the side, and fall back to sleep. With dreams of girls with metal fingers and dead girls screaming for my help before I run away and leave them.

"I need you to sign for this." Angela says as she throws a think file on top of the desk in front of me. I pick it up, and flick through it, not reading the papers, just doing it because I feel like I should.  
"What is 'this'?" I ask when I throw it back down.  
She sighs, and clasps it in her fingers and puts it in my lap." 'This' is a form for us to do some tests once Andy wakes up."  
I run a hand through my hair. "Tests? Like medical things?" I frown as Angela sits in the chair a few feet away from me.  
"No. Not medical, not entirely. I'm talking about academic tests." She says as she inspect a long, golden nail on her left hand.  
"Academic?" I ask. "Why would she need academic tests?"  
She gives me this look she often gets, when I say something that is so obvious to her and she thinks I should understand it immediately. "Andy sustained a very serious head injury. We have to see what the damage has done to her brain before we can fix it. Scans can't tell us everything, I'm afraid."

I shrug, giving up. "Yeah, okay." I find the place and sign with the pen on the table.  
"Aren't you going to read it first?" Angela asks.  
"No, I trust you." I pass her the sheets and she gives me this peculiar smile.  
"What?" I ask, a little irritated.  
She shakes her head. "Nothing."  
I shrug in response, and continue watching Andy's immobile frame through the window between her room and the seating area.

I feel Angela's hand on my shoulder, and I put my own on hers and look at her. "I'm just so tired, Angela." I say.  
She smiles at me, and sighs. "Look, you being here isn't helping you. Come with me."  
"Where are you going?" I ask, my gaze on Andy again.  
"My office, you can sit with me. Keep me company." I smile again, and wonder how such a kind woman made her way in the Capitol.  
"Sure," I say, "I'l be there in a minute."  
Angela pauses for a moment, but I see her nod out of the corner of my eye. "Okay." She clasps the papers in her hand, and I hear her walk away.

Once she's left, I get up and enter Andy's room, slowly turning the handle, and gently pushing it shut to make no noise.  
I walk to her bedside, and sit in the chair pulled up to her bed. My eyes travel over her figure, from her fresh and clean face, to the dark shapes of metal now on her hands. Her right hand looks worse than her left, but neither of them look that great to be perfectly honest.

Half of the palm of her left hand has been re-designed and fixed with steel plates, with a fully functional thumb The bases of the other two have metal wrapped around them, I'm not sure why but apparently it helps. The right looks a little better, but not by much. It's only partially covered in metal, just with her last three fingers made in metal.

It's horrendous. And it shatters me. And if it manages to have such an effect on me when she's comatose, I don't know what will happen when she wakes up.

* * *

**_ .God. Did you guys see the posters?! I swear, I screamed, they all look so great! Especially my Career babies! Enobaria's teeth look so great, don't you think? I'm a little wary about Johanna's hair though, the red is a bit sketchy, but the pics on set and her Capitol Couture portrait didn't make it look so red? Idk, I'm confused. And omg did you see the reaping still? Did you see Peeta's shoes? Double knotted. That's all I'm saying._**

**_Okay this was meant to be a lot longer, but believe when I say I have been trying to write this chapter for AGES, but for some reason this one just didn't want to be written, and I thought that that was a good enough ending so it should sustain you and stop me feeling bad. And because I really didn't write this, I started the next chapter instead, so it really shouldn't be long until that one is up. _**

**_I want to give you guys a big thank you for your nice reviews on the first chapter! It really does mean a lot when the first chapter is so kindly received, and because my school year is almost finished, I should be able to update in between revising!  
_**

**_Oh, and this might sound weird, but if any of you guys are Percy Jackson fans like me, you should totally read my favourite fanfic ever! It's about a girl called Persephone Current who finds out she's a daughter of Poseidon, and goes on a quest with a son of Jupiter called James, another daughter of Poseidon called McKenna, a daughter of Hermes called Skylar, a son of Hades called Zach and Will Solace. Because who doesn't love Will Solace? Okay, just trust me it's beautiful and I spend my days waiting for it to update :) This is the writer's profile, where she has the three instalments: /u/4014316/SephCurrentDaughterofPoseidon_**

**_Replies:  
TributeAndProud: They're kind of meant to be, but at least you enjoyed it :)  
Theuglyduckling492: They are not annoying, believe me! They make me feel so happy! I just hope I do the 74th Games justice!  
mtdelaney: That makes me feel so proud! Not all of them, I guess, and I'm really happy you like her! Thank you, me and Lou (my BETA spent ages choosing a title)  
HpHgPjGone: Yes omg I had to do so much research to make sure it made sense, and yeah, because they're been replaced, Capitol technology means that they will be like normal fingers, just metal :) And I will as soon as I can, I'm really sorry I haven't yet, but I will, I do mean it  
somedayisours: Well wait no longer!  
MaximumAngel1: Oh god I feel so embarrassed when people say they read all of it, the first chapters were so horrendous! Thank you :)  
Graceaga: Realism was a very important thing for me. I think I wanted to show a victor that was so damaged from the Games, ebcause when it comes to it Katniss only received mental scars, and I wanted to explore living with physical scars and permanent proof that you've survived the Games, and had to kill to do so. I know exactly what you mean, if you make your character go through crap you have to stick with it. And I'm sorry nothing's been happening, but these are like the opening ones, actual stuff will start to happen soon, I swear. Do you want me to do a Johanna POV? I'd be happy to do so, I'd never considered it, but the idea appeals to me :)  
logopogo4231 : Oh my god thank you! That really means so much to me! Thank you for reading it!  
imawin4U: Thank you!  
LoopyToucan: That's kind of what I was aiming for tbh. I know it sounds terrible, but I had never seen a fic where both mental and physical scars were really shown, and I thought it'd be interesting to show how one would adapt to such a radical change to their life. And yeah, it would have been easier for Gads to live, but he decided to be a lovely person and let the person he'd grown to care deeply for live :)  
iHillery: Thank you, it means a lot. I was wondering if you got my pm? Can you message me, please  
anonymous: Ask and ye shall receive.  
TheBiohazardVictim: r u ok  
_**

**_OKAY CAUSE I FEEL REALLY BAD I HAVE A PREVIEW FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER OKAY IT CONTAINS SPOILERS OBV BUT IF YOU WANT TO CAUSE PAIN FOR YOURSELF AND MAKE YOURSELF EXCITED READ ON YOU LOVELY PERSON._**

_'Andy goes totally silent, her expression resembling that of a cornered wolf. I'm guessing that meant she's either going to give up, or physically attack me.  
Needless to say, I'm ready when she decides to jump at me. _  
_"I hate you! How could you do this to me!" '_


	3. Life is pain

_This chapter is dedicated to Graceaga for giving me the awesome idea for an Andy pov, thank you, I never would have thought of it and I hope it came out alright._

* * *

_**"Suddenly you're ripped into being alive.  
And life is pain, and life is suffering, and life is horror, but my god you're alive and it's spectacular."**_

_****__Joseph Campbell_

* * *

**Andy pov.**

I'm in the arena.

But there's something not right. You know that feeling you get, when you're in a room alone, and someone walks in and you just know? And you know that someone's there, but not because you hear them, because it's as if something in the room had to make space for another body. Yeah, that's not here. It's as if the arena is empty. I look around me. I'm at the cornucopia. But it's not bloodstained and trampled like it should be after days in the arena, it's as if it's the first day. Which is completely ridiculous because it's empty.

I look to my feet. I'm on my podium. I look at my boots, I thought they were worn and covered in mud and blood? I hold out my hands, expecting to see a shambly created wrap on my broken hands. But instead, they're clean, not a scratch on them.  
"Oh.. my God." I mutter to myself, and reach up to run a hand through my hair, but pull it back quick as a flash when I feel it neatly tied up.  
Fear washes over me, and I half step and half fall of of my podium, putting my hands to my mouth.  
"What.." I Mutter to myself, and slowly back away. I've survived for days in the arena, fighting for my life against people ready to kill me without a thought. But being stuck in the same arena with no-one here is even more terrifying.

"You're safe you know." I turn around quickly, at the familiar voice, and before I realise what I'm doing I'm taking a step closer.  
"Gads." I say to him, but stop myself from getting too close.  
He smiles at me, and my eyes travel over his body. He looks the same as the first day too, his shaggy brown hair getting in the way of his amber eyes, his clothes snug and not a speck of dirt on him.

"What's going on? I don't understand.." I stop talking and just ball my hands into fists.  
Gads frowns for a second, and then shrugs. "I don't know, this is all you."  
I look at him for a moment. "What the hell do you mean it's all me?"

**Woosley pov.**

I close my eyes for a second.  
"This is so frustrating." I mutter. I knot my hand in my hair and open my eyes again.  
I look at her again. "Andy, you have to wake up." I say. "It's been two weeks. Two weeks. Please can you just…" I drawl off and sigh, running my hand through my hair again.  
"Wake up?"

**Andy pov.**

The memories come back, in flashes of rage, pain and colour. Me killing Fawn, Garth trying to kill me, Gads killing Garth, me killing Gads. Me killing Gads.  
The thought of my own skull caving in cause me to lay a hand to my head, and fear engulfs me when I feel no dent, no blood. I then remember that my hands are meant to be destroyed and another wave passes over me.  
A scared, moaning noise comes from my mouth, and I look at Gads, with someone akin to pity painted on his face.

"You're dead." I say, confusion lacing my words.  
He nods, "Yeah."  
"And I'm…?" I leave the statement as a question.  
"In a coma as far as I can tell."  
"A coma?" I ask, a nervous smile on my face.  
"Yeah, you know when you don't wake-"  
"I know what a coma is, idiot!" I snap, and then put my hand to my mouth.  
I wince, and look as Gads again. The pure, untrifled version of him that is. "But you're dead," I try to stress, "I killed you."  
Gads cocks his head to the side, "Haven't we been over this."  
"How are you even here?"  
"How are you?" That stops me, and I remain still where I was, a little taken aback. That's a good question.  
"How am I here?" I murmur.

**Woosley pov.**

"Your family misses you." I say, " I spoke to your dad. On the phone. He's really worried."  
I lean back in my chair, sighing deeply. "Your whole family is." I pause, "The whole country is. The whole nation. They're all on edge for you, Andy."

**Andy pov.**

I sit on my podium, my head in my hands. I feel Gads sit by me.  
I turn to look at him, he's smiling. "I'm sorry." I say to him.  
He frowns. "Why?"  
"Because I killed you," I say, "If it wasn't for me, you would have won. I was dying anyway, you could have been the newest victor of District 7." For a moment I ponder why I'm even talking to him, considering he's not even real, but it doesn't stop me. I feel so bloody guilty, and if I can't express it to the real Gads, this one is good enough.  
He smiles at me again. "You shouldn't be. You were always meant to be the victor, it wouldn't have been right if I'd have won." He stops and thinks for a moment. "The name would have been… tainted… if it wasn't you. It just wouldn't have felt right, I'd feel like I had stolen it from you or something. It just seemed unjust to let you die when you were the reason we had even gotten anywhere."

"Maybe I was meant to die." I say.  
Gads pauses and looks at me. "You always were like that."  
"Like what?" I ask, feeling slightly insulted.  
"So pessimistic."  
"Hey!" I say, even more annoyed, "Maybe I'm right!"  
"Not likely. You're too young."  
"Excuse me?"  
He sighs, and makes a frustrated noise.  
"Wow, even when you're dead I can frustrate you." I say dryly, and he smirks at me.  
"I mean, don't get me wrong, you're very intelligent, and wise beyond your years, but you're still just a kid, no matter how much crap you've gone through. You have a chance to retain some innocence."  
"I think innocence is long gone for me. It never has been in my grasp." I say quietly.

Gads stays silent, and reaches out to push a strand of hair out of my eyes. A brotherly gesture.  
"One of my greatest regrets was that I never found out what's haunted you for so long."  
A sheet of ice runs through my body, and what he says reminds me that this isn't real. Because Gads is talking about himself in past tense, because he's dead. And this is just a hallucination. He's not here. No-one is.  
I cock my head slowly to the side, my mouth slightly open. The strand falls in my eyes again.  
"You're not real." I whisper. He stays silent. "None of this is. It's… too clean… too perfect. Shiny." He looks down. I look around the arena, spotting the misconceptions. Everything is so bright, and neat. Like a fairytale. It's an improved version of the arena I killed in and Gads was killed in.  
"You're dead and I'm in a coma."  
Gads looks at me once more. "You're an illusion, a delusion made up by my mind to cope with trauma." I meet his sparkling amber eyes for the last time. "But I think it's time to stop pretending I'm coping," A ghost of a smile paints Gads' lips, and he starts to fade, "And wake up."

My eyes open up, and I'm greeted by loud noises and pain throughout my body.  
I look around slowly, breathing heavily, at the bright hospital room. And I realise that someone is screaming. And then I realise that person is me.

**Woosley pov.**

I wake up to screaming. A female screaming. A female that I know.  
I stand up quickly, not expecting to see Andy, awake, upright and screaming in fear.  
"Andy!" I say, and make my way closer to her, but she quickly leaps from her bed and thrusts an arm out in front of her.  
"Don't touch me!" She shrieks, and I can't help but be surprised that she's been awake for less than a minute and is already yelling at me.  
I hear a running behind me, and watch as Andy's line of sight travels to the door behind me. I turn just as it springs open and Angela and a handful of other doctors are behind it.  
"Wait!" I say, holding out my hands. "Angela, wait."  
Angela gives me that look again, "What?!" She look from me to Andy.  
"Trust me, close the door for a second."  
"Why?!" She half-shrieks.  
"Trust me, please." I say quietly, and it does the job. She does give me the most infuriated look I've ever seen from her, but she does close the door.

I turn back to Andy, still feet away from me, not allowing me to come closer.  
"Andy-" I try to say, taking half a step forward, but she cuts me off.  
"Don't you dare." She says it quickly, like an order, her eyes wide and daring.  
She holds out her hands again, and for once she looks at them. Her hands that were once flesh and blood and are now mainly occupied by metal.  
A grimace paints her face, and she whispers an "Oh…"  
But then her face travels from her hands to me. And they are filled with rage.

Andy goes totally silent, her expression resembling that of a cornered wolf. I'm guessing that meant she's either going to give up, or physically attack me. Needless to say, I'm ready when she decides to jump at me.  
"I hate you! How could you do this to me!" She shouts at me, I don't take it to heart, but just stand there holding her wrists so she's unable to hit me again.  
She tries in vain to free her arms, but she manages to slowly still herself and become calmer.  
"I'm sorry, Andy," I say quietly.  
And all of the hardness and anger that occupied her eyes leave, and all that remains is the broken and tired girl.

I watch in stunned silence as tears fill her eyes, and let go of her wrists as she falls to her knees.  
"I can't do it anymore," she says quietly as she begins to shake slightly with what I presume is hysteria.  
She puts her head in her hands, and the facade leaves her. I continue to be stunned, and try to wrack my brains to see if she's ever showed such intense emotion, because I'm at a loss of what to do.

I sink to my knees next to her, but don't touch her because I know that she'll probably just flinch away from me.  
"Can't do what?" I ask quietly.  
She removes her hands from her face slowly, to show just her eyes over the metal fingers that have caused her so much strife. She looks at me silently for a moment, as if just remembering I'm here, and I figure I won't get an answer.  
But she removes her hands completely, and holds them infront of her, looking at them silently.  
"Fight," she murmurs, "I can't fight anymore." She says, as tears begin to well up in her eyes again.

I know she can't just be talking about the loss of her fingers. She's talking about everything. Every crappy thing that she's had to endure. And I don't hesitate to throw my arms around her and pull her to my chest, because I know she'll let me. And she does, because whatever usually stops her from finding solace in human contact, apparently isn't working today.

I'm not about to ask her anything else, it's obvious she just needs to be alone with her thoughts. I continue to hold into her even once she's stopped crying.

"I'm sorry I hit you." Andy says to me. She doesn't look at me, she just looks ahead of her.  
"It's fine." I say, smiling slightly. "Are you okay?" I ask tentatively.  
"Do you think I'm fucking okay?" She responds, returning to her usual venomous attitude. She shrugs herself out of my arms and stands up, brushing herself off. I don't get offended by it, because it's just how she is. She uses cruel words and a snaky nature to stop her from showing anyone what she's really like.

Andy turns away for a few seconds, and then turns and looks at me.  
"What happened?" She asks, her head cocked slowly to the side.  
"What?" I ask, suddenly worried that she can't remember what happened to her.  
She makes an exasperated sound and runs a hand through her hair. It's a gesture I've never seen before, but the speed of it tells me she does it often. But I suppose I've never seen her awake with her hair down. "I know what happened." She says slowly, taking her time between words, as if she's having to think about what she's saying, "but can you explain it to me?"

I'm silent for a moment, but I push myself up, and I stand opposite her. My eyes travel over Andy's body, and I'm stunned that she's awake and functioning, when for the past two weeks she's been immobile and comatose. She has her arms folded over her chest, with her expression just the picture of the rage. She looks different. Her eyes are sharper, her cheekbones more prominent, and I can see the dusting of freckles over her nose clearly. I've never seen her with her hair down before, and I suppose weeks of it not being tied back has had an effect on it, because it's not the tightly wound curls I would have imagined, but instead it's more gentle curls, with a few tight curls, but not enough it looks brutal.

"On the second to last day… Garth and his sister killed the other two tributes."  
"The ones from District 6?"  
"Yeah. But not before Garth's sister-"  
"Wonder." She states.  
"Was killed. I guess her death was the last straw, or something. He slaughtered the guy who killed her, and then went off looking for the last of you guys."  
Andy frowns, and looks down. "Wonder was killed in front of him?" She asks me.  
"Yeah."  
She raises her eyebrows, and shakes her head. She takes a few steps back. "What next?"  
"Well, the next day Fawn found you… and you killed her."  
"How?"  
"You threw your axe into her chest."  
"Oh." She runs a hand through her hair. "And then?" She asks, her voice quieter.  
"Garth…" I swallow, "Attacked you. And then-"  
"How?" She says, her voice stern.  
'What?"  
"How did Garth attack me, what did he do to me exactly?" I asks, not looking at me.  
I sigh. "He smashed his… mace into your skull. Then your stomach. Then your hand." She nods, and I wonder why she needs to know all of this.  
"And then?"  
I sigh, thinking of Gads. Again I think of the warning Johanna gave me not to get close to my tributes, but here I am mourning the loss of my second one, when I've got an alive one in front of me. "Gads killed him. And-"  
"I killed Gads." She finishes quietly.

"Andy, it's not like you murdered him." I say in a murmur.  
"Can we not get into this right now." She snaps at me, and I put my hands up. "Why don't you go get your doctor friends, I'm sure they want to inspect me."  
I can tell she's doing that thing where she blocks people out, and I just nod at her. "Okay."

* * *

**_Oh. My. God. The trailer. The trAILER. I STAYED UP THE WHOLE NIGHT TO WATCH IT AND OH GOD IT WAS PERFECT. IT LOOKS SO MUCH BETTER THAN THE FIRST, I AM EVEN MORE EXCITED NOW! FINNICK AND JOHANNA AND ENOBARIA I JUST REALLY CAN'T GET INTO IT WOW I THINK I CRIED. I'm just never over that trailer, it looks so amazing, the cgi, the acting, the tributes I just loved it so much._**

**_Anyway, so pretty much because of trailer night I decided to write all of this up in celebration! I really hope the Andy part came out alright, both when she's awake and comatose. I don't really have much to say apart from crying more over the trailer, and I'm sure you don't want that._**

**_Replies:  
TributeAndProud: Here you have more!  
LoopyToucan: I DONT KNOW WHY DID YOU READ THE PREVIEW?! Thanks man, and no in England we have shorter terms and more holidays, I have Monday and half of Tuesday next :)  
mtdelaney: Oh really? :) Thank you, I hope you enjoyed this one! No, it's just that Woosley is a really likeable person, and so is she, they're just friends. I have a writing style?  
Graceaga: I really do hope you liked this, it was all because of you, really. Did you see the trailer? Jena was perfect as Johanna, she really was. I love her too, so I'm happy you think I got her right :)I'll do (at least part) of the next chapter in Jo's pov, and that way you see more of District 7 too. It really means a lot that you can call me a great writer, I'm always unsure about posting anything. Yeah, that is pretty much every chapter for me :) Was this a respectable length?  
MaximumAngel1: Thanks man  
TheBiohazardVictim: Maybe_**


	4. Monster

**_"Wanna make a monster? Take the parts of yourself that make you uncomfortable — your weaknesses, bad thoughts, vanities, and hungers — and pretend they're across the room. It's too ugly to be human. It's too ugly to be you. Children are afraid of the dark because they have nothing real to work with. Adults are afraid of themselves."_**

Richard Siken - Black Telephone

* * *

**Andy pov.**

I don't sleep.  
But I suppose being in a coma for two weeks doesn't make it all that appealing.  
I lay there, in the hospital bed, not feeling the soft fabric of the bedding, or the way my metal fingers are cold to the touch. I'm just numb. Numb to emotion, numb to textures, numb to my thoughts. It's the only way to cope. Because if I'm not numb the memories of the arena spring back to my mind in their all to vivid imagery and they hurt. They hurt so much it's like my skin is being torn apart all over again. So I block it out. Block out the pain, and the emotions, so remembering the way I stabbed my friend doesn't hurt so much. Or the way I held another as she died. Or remembering the people I killed thinking that I would feel good about it later.  
But later never came.

My line of sight travels to the door, and wonder what would happen if I got up and turned the handle. But I know it's useless, so I shake my head and turn over, immune to the sounds of fabric rubbing against each other and the feel of it enveloping me.  
I order my thoughts, my coherent thoughts that is, and make sense of what I can remember.  
Me, in the arena. Me, dying. Gads dying. Forcing myself out of my coma. Me screaming at Woosley. Me crying in Woosley's arms. Me pushing away Woosley. And me letting the doctors do their checks.

God, when did things become so messy and corrupted? I let myself believe for a moment that it was when my name was drawn and I became too determined to think of anyone else, just my own self preservation, but I know it's a lie. Ever since my family decided to survive the aura surrounding me stopped being young and matured instantly. I got angry at anything and everything. I threw things, threatened people, and got obsessed with being better. Better than my brother, better than my classmates, better than the other tributes.  
I'm practically a Career. Because that's what I done. I made it my career to be the best axe thrower I could be, and just never stopped. I never stopped wanting to be everything I could be and more.

And look where it got me.

I let myself embrace the fact that I won for a moment, but just push it down inside me, it's just too awful to remember. And no wonder I won the Games, it's not like a decent person ever does. And can I call myself a decent person? Me, who played the Careers for my own life. Me, who killed my friend when I was close enough to death for him to win. At what point did I stop being a decent person. Did I ever solicit the title 'decent'?  
Or did it just leave me all at once. If so, when? Probably the time I threatened to kill someone with a pencil because they mentioned my sister. The memory brings a grim and somewhat hysterical smirk to my face. Oh, how easier it was when I was just the crazy girl who was good with axes, instead of the youngest victor to grace Panem.

I wonder if I hadn't killed Gads, would I be feeling like this? Would I be proud, happy even? If I'd manage to stay with my original plan to make no connections whatsoever, would I be happy, in District Seven or the Capitol, basking in my glory? I can't help but think that I would.

"Did you sleep well?" The nurse who's friends with Woosley asks me in the morning. I just glare at her. She offers me a weak smile and delicately takes my hand. She reaches the metal fingers and I cringe when she moves them.  
"They're working fine." She says.  
"How do they work?" I ask, not realising I was.  
The girl stops abruptly and looks at me in shock.  
"Well?" I ask, harshly.  
She breaks herself out of her daze and replies "We take the undamaged nerves from your fingers and thread them through the metal." She says almost robotically.  
As she talks I feel a grimace paint my face. "That's awful." I say in a quiet voice.  
She stops again, and looks at me. "Yes, I suppose it is."

I look at her, and begin to think I've judged her too harshly, like I do to everyone. In my head anyone from the Capitol is morally wrong with delusions of grandeur.  
"You'll need to do some tests, make sure your writing is unaffected, and other things." She says. "You're left handed, right?"  
"Yeah." I say, not looking at her, just straight ahead.  
She lets go of my hand and it falls to my lap. I don't feel it, just accept it.  
"We'll need to do some academic tests, of course."  
"Academic?" I ask, not really caring, I just want to get out of here. The Capitol lights are too bright, the colours too voluptuous. I want to be back in District 7, with the smell of pines and my family, with the wary respect I've earned, and the constant smell of charred branches, pleasing to smell. It's too artificial here.  
"Because of your blow to the head."  
"Oh."  
"And of course it will benefit you anyway…" her words melt before reaching my ears, and even though I know I should probably be listening, I can't make myself.

I pull myself back to the present day when I hear the door click open. I should have expected him.  
"Hey," Woosley says, the ever-smiling expression on his face.  
I see the doctor give him a warm smile out of the corner of my eye, and I glare at her from some unbeknownst reason. A slight tinge of anger surges through me.  
He's looking at me, when I don't say anything, and the concerned look on his face strikes me to my core.  
"You okay, Andy?" He asks, and I sigh.  
"I just got out of a fucking coma and I've learnt that most of my fingers are made of metal, and I've got unrepairable scars covering me, what the hell do you think." I don't look up, but see the doctor raise her eyebrows and Woosely give a knowing smirk.  
"I'll give you two a minute." The doctor says in a small voice and backs out of the room, not meeting anyone's eyes.

Me and Woosley remain in silence, but I don't really register his presence. Self-loathing thoughts run around my head, bumping into each other as they race to drive me insane as quickly as possible.  
"Andy." Woosley's voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and I look at him for a moment in silence. I think he's been trying to get my attention for a while.  
He frowns at me, "Are you okay?"  
I blink, and wonder how someone so genuinely caring and kind won the Hunger Games. Because he's a decent person.

"Fine." I say curtly, and he frowns once again.  
I clear my throat, "How long am I going to be here for?" I ask.  
Woosley pauses. "I'm not sure, however long it takes I guess."  
I sigh and lean back in my bed, "Fuck that." He smiles slightly.  
He makes his way in the seat by my chair and I watch him out of the corner of my eye.  
He taps his index finger against his knee eleven times. "You, um," He clears his throat, "You done well." He finishes, he doesn't look at me.  
"I know." I reply, and don't look at him when he looks at me in shock.

"You know?" He asks, in disbelief.  
"Of course I know, I'm here aren't I?" I turn and look at him sharply, and roll my eyes. "Let me guess, you assumed that I would be wallowing in self pity, saying I don't deserve to win, and that it would be much better if I wasn't here." He looks down and I smiles slightly, holding out my arms, "You expect me to be asking 'why me?' and in permanent hysterics." My arms fall down, and I look at him once more, reaching his eyes, "You think I'm going to ignore that I've won and how I came to do so, because that's what you did."  
He glares at me, and I raise my eyebrows. It occurs to me that I probably shouldn't be being so harsh on him, but some anger I can't identify refuses to leave me.  
"I'm not you, Woosley. I set out to win these Games, and I truly believed I could. For a few moments I accepted death, but I was right the whole time." I lean forward, "I deserve to be here. So no, I'm not going to crumble to hysterics like you think I will."

I lean back in my bed again, and look at my metal fingers, grimacing.  
Woosley makes an exasperated noise. "You know, when I was watching you bleed to death I forgot how damn annoying you are."  
"I didn't." I don't even look at him.  
He slams his fist on his chair, I raise my eyebrows but don't stir. "Why are so so bloody infuriating?!" He says in a curt voice.  
I turn to look at him, finally, and almost laugh at the anger in his eyes. "Why are you so determined to believe I'm a helpless young girl?" I ask in a firm voice.

The anger fades from his eyes quickly, and he leans back in his chair. "I'm sorry." He says quietly.  
"Why? I'm not." I turn away from him.  
I hear him sigh, "You're right you know."  
I look at him, "Yeah." I say.  
"Even seeing you go through the Games wasn't enough for me to not think of you as someone who needed help."  
"I don't need anyone's help." I say stoically, almost immediately.  
"That's what I'm saying. I know you don't now. But I still want you to need help."

I remain quiet for a moment. "Why?"  
I meet his eyes as he runs and hand through his hair, "Because you've got the most depressing age in your eyes, and you're more mature than I am. There's something about you that makes me think something made you grow up quickly. Too quickly."

Again, I don't say anything straight away.  
I think he expects me to say something, but decides I won't, as he gets up and makes his way to the door.  
Just as his hand reaches the handle I respond, "Maybe you're right." It's quiet, and barely noticeable. But I know he hears. He looks at me for a second.

"Get some sleep before your next tests, Andy."  
I watch as he leaves, and roll my eyes. Like I can sleep.

The doctor, Angela, puts a pile of papers in front of me.  
"What the hell is this?" I ask, and see Woosley roll his eyes from the corner of the room.  
She sighs, "It's one of your tests. For your memory. Just fill it all in and give it to me when you're done."  
I look at the first question, it's mathematical. "This is maths."  
"Some of it."  
"Why?" I ask.  
"It's all just what you've retained with your injuries."  
She leaves as I start filling in the questions, and Woosley starts flicking through the tv on the wall.

"Who's Carmel?" He asks when I'm on the next page of questions.  
"Huh?"  
He turns to me, "Carmel. She's your middle name."  
"Oh, her." I write something down, "My great-grandmother, my mum was close to her. She was the first person in my family to play piano."  
"Oh, okay." He turns back to the tv, but frowns, and looks at me again, "The first?"

I look at him through my eyelashes and smile at him.  
He leans forward. "You play piano?" He asks in disbelief.  
"We all do, to some extent. Carmel taught my grandmother, who, in turn, taught my mother, who taught my dad. They both taught my brother, and my mum taught me until her death. Then my dad and brother taught me. I taught my… younger sister." I pause at that.  
"Younger sister?"  
"Yes, she's a year and a bit younger than me." I look up again, pulled out of my thoughts. "They said I had the fingers for it." I look at my hands, covered and encased in slabs of metal.  
"Or at least I used to."

Later, I fill in the test and hand it to Woosley. "Give this to her."  
He nods, and flicks through it, knowing that I won't care.  
I let myself take an amount of happiness in his company, however slight it may be, because I know that it will end.

I've always believed that I never acted like a child, but it never became so clear, so… immense until I competed in The Hunger Games. I can remember throwing my axe into teenagers and feeling joy in it. Relief. And the memories now fill me with such self loathing that it's as if I'm being suffocated. I ball my hands until I can feel the metal scrape against my skin and draw blood. I run my hands through my hair and lean on my hands as if I need the support.

I look up when I hear the door open. It's Angela. She has my test in her hands.  
"Andy.. can I talk to you?"

* * *

_**The next chapter has Johanna pov I swear, but I really wanted to show the effects of the Games on Andy's mental state, and I decided to give you a cliff hanger because I'm mean. Have any of you seen the pics of Sam and Jena in Glamour magazine?! Jesus I need it now!**_

_**Replies:  
Graceaga: Thank you so much! I'm so happy you liked it, considering it was your idea (and I'm so happy you re-read the first bit!) And I'm so sorry Jo wasn't in this one, I just really wanted to go with the idea of Andy and insomnia. But Johanna will definitely have a pov in the next chaper, I swear. Thank you so much though, your review really made my day :) I know, urgh I love Jo and Finnick so much, the trailer was amazing!  
TributeAndProud: I know omg! And yeah, I just think Gads would have been the best to be with her, in her coma tbh.  
LoopyToucan: Yeah omg I will, I read the summary and it sounds amazing :)  
MaximumAngel1: Well, there's no physical damage, mental is another situation altogether :)  
anonymous: Thank you, that's exactly what I was trying to convey.  
**__**TheBiohazardVictim: Sigh.**_  



	5. Vulnerability

_**"What a philosophically fantastic idea, that vulnerability and need is a beautiful thing."  
**Hugh Laurie_

* * *

Johanna pov.

I wake up with a start, to the ringing of my phone, the shrill noise ricocheting off of the sides of my head.

"Shit." I run a hand through my short hair once, before reaching over the piled covers of silk sheets to my cluttered bedside table, atop of which my second landline is situated.  
I don't bother looking at the id, and just put the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I stifle a yawn as I wince at the strands of light peeking through my curtains.  
"Jo?" I hear a voice say.  
"Who is it?" I rub my eyes tiredly.  
"Jo, it's me, don't you ever look at your caller id?"  
I sit up straight when I realise I know that voice. I don't like that voice.  
"Woosley?" I can almost hear his laugh.  
"Yeah, of course, who else would call you?"

I roll my eyes at him, and search through the pile of crap on my bedside table to find my clock. 4:00am.  
"Did you call me now to get back at me for calling you when you're asleep?"  
"Maybe."  
I roll my eyes again. "God, I hate you." I remember where he is, and more importantly why he's there. "So, how's the vegetable? No luck yet?" I don't bother paying attention to his response, knowing what he'll say.  
"Jo…" I look up when I hear the pause, automatically thinking the worst.  
"What?"  
"She's awake." I can almost hear the laugh whilst I frown.  
"What do you mean she's awake?" I ask sceptically.  
"I mean she's not a fucking vegetable anymore."  
I squint, "Are you sure? Cause I gotta say, two weeks? Isn't that like the no-go area?"  
I hear him sigh again and smirk despite myself. "Yes, I'm fucking sure, Jo! I can see her right now!"  
"What, are you stalking her?"  
"No! She's talking to her doctor."  
"Her doctor? Why?"  
I her him make an exasperated noise, "I don't know! She's been having tests done and doing tests, it could be anything."

I wait a few seconds. "Well, is she okay?"  
"I don't know. She's… different."  
I snort, "Well duh, she's killed a load of people and just got out of a coma, I bet she's different."  
"Do you think that's it? That it's like us?"  
I frown, "Well, how is she acting?"  
"She's like… still acting like she's fine. When she woke up she freaked out and started screaming-"  
"Screaming?"  
"Yeah, I was asleep."  
"Ouch."  
"And she didn't even let me touch her until I'd spoken to her properly. And then she freaked out again."  
"She didn't start screaming again, did she?"  
"No she…" He stops and I wait, "She started crying."

It doesn't really faze me. I think all victors acted like that when they realised they won. I know I did, and the ones I've mentored. When you're in the Games, and you have to stay alive, it's easy to ignore the pounding guilt and trauma in your head and heart. Once you leave, and you've nothing to concentrate on, those feelings just come out in a wave that's unstoppable and you don't have any resources to stop it.  
No-one gets out of the Games unscathed. Mentally and physically.

"So? Doesn't everyone?" I take to looking at my nails, and I can recall the loathsome varnish bestowed upon them during my visits to the Capitol. I would have gone this time with Woosley, if it wasn't his first. I guess I just wanted to throw him into the deep end, figuring it's how he would learn. It obviously worked.  
"You didn't see her-" he tries to reason.  
"Look, Woosley, she's gonna cry. She's gonna freak out, she might not be able to sleep, she might not be able to eat, I don't know, okay?! These things happen when you win. The only reason it's bothering you is because she was your first tribute and victor, okay?" I snap, but then regret my words. Woosley may not have won by accident, but he's one of the softer Tributes, like Beetee from 3 and Cecelia from 8. "It'll get easier Woose. I'm sorry."

"No, you're right, Jo. I should take your advice anyway."  
"Yes you should. Anyway, is she okay now?" I ask, mildly curious.  
"She's still talking with her doctor," He pauses and I look at my nails, "Angrily."  
I frown again, "What do you mean 'angrily'?"  
"I mean it looks like she's gonna throw something, I-I gotta go, Jo. Will you tell-"  
"Her family? Sure, Woose."  
"Thanks Jo. It was good talking to you."  
I smile. "Well hopefully you'll be home soon and you can have a great time talking to me in person."  
I can almost hear him smile. "I wait for that eagerly."  
"I bet you do. Leave! You said you had to sort stuff out!"  
"Oh right, bye Jo."  
"Bye."

I put down the receiver, and decide to sort out this mess in the morning. I pull a pillow over my head and let myself fall back asleep.

When I wake, I look around my bedroom. Not a clean inch in sight.  
"Fuck." I run a hand through my hair, and pull myself up and out of bed. I've met with Andy's family before, I liked them. Especially her father, he was exceptionally kind, and managed to retain a sense of humour despite his oldest daughter being in critical condition. It was tricky though, trying to figure out how to phrase words around him and his other kids, the family was surrounded by grief, and I didn't want anything I said about Andy's condition to remind them of those they've lost.

I consider going straight to Andy's father, but I decide against it, and instead make my way to the house next door.  
I push the door open, no-one in Victor's Village locks their door; we all know each other, and know that no-one will bother us.

"Hello? It's Johanna!" I I call when I get in, and make my way round his house, knowing he's in.  
"I know you're in, you can't hide from me!" I smile slightly.  
"One sec!" I hear him shout from upstairs.  
I look up when I hear Tobius's boots on his stairs, buttoning up his shirt.  
I frown at him, and he smirks.

"What's up Jo?" He smiles at me easily, and I sigh inwardly. He's a tricky one, I mean don't get me wrong, we're good friends, but anything can set him off. He's one of the ones with more mental than physical scars, though he tries to hide it. My eyes travel to his wrists, hidden beneath his shirt sleeves.  
"You okay, hon?" I ask him.  
He cocks his head to the side. "I'm fine, Jo." He rubs his hand over is arms and winces slightly.  
"You sure?"  
He smiles again, "Yes, Johanna." A slightly icy tone seeps into his words and I know not to press any further.

"Where's Greer?" I ask him, as he walks to his dining room. Greer, his twin, is an almost copy of Tobius in personality, not so much in looks. He looks closer to me, with brown hair and eyes, whereas Greer looks closer to her sister and mother, with strawberry blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes.  
"Greer?" He looks up at me from the papers he's holding. "She's with Piper and Ma, and the baby."  
I nod, and he sighs whilst dropping the papers on a nearby desk.

"Jo, what's up?"  
"Hmm?"  
"As much as I love your company, I know you didn't come here before 12 to talk to me about my mental state and my family." He smirks in that easy going way of his, and I sigh, and throw out my arms.

"Okay, you caught me." I lean forward, and place my hands on the table in front of us. I phrase my words carefully, so as not to trigger him. "You know… the girl… Andy."  
Tobius looks to me again, and any happiness from his face leaves. The mask every Victor knows and loves is placed on his face. I can see the flecks of emerald in his eyes.  
"The one…" He swallows, "In a coma?" His words come out slowly and deliberate.  
"Yeah, Toby, that's the one." He bursts into slight chuckles, so I reach out and grab his wrist. Toby has a few ticks about any possible breakdowns, That is one of them.  
He pulls himself together. "What about her?"  
"She's awake." I figure it's better to just get it out there than waste my friend's time.

He's quiet, and I feel his hand start to cover mine. "Fuck."  
"Yeah. I'm off to tell her family."  
He snorts, "What's left of it."  
I hit him slightly, "Don't be disrespectful!"  
He smiles at me, and pulls me to him, tucking me under his arm.  
"And what's that got to do with me, dearest Johanna?"  
I grin, "Ah, Tobius, darling, I need you to tell all of our beloved neighbours the good news." I lay a hand on his chest, and look up at his placid face.  
"Okay… Why, though?"  
"I just want them to know. But yeah, Woosley called me to report that she is awake, and angry, by the sounds of it."  
He nods, "Okay, I'll tell them all. But later, when they're all awake, and hopefully sober."

I smile slightly, and pull myself out of his arms, "I have to go talk to her family now, so bye-bye."  
Tobius waves a hand, "See you later, Jo."  
I turn around and make my way to the door, "Take care of yourself!" I call over my shoulder, before opening the door and making my way down the steps.

I make my way through District Seven wrapped in furs and thick jumpers, it's only warm for about a month or two here, and then it's back to perpetual autumn. I keep my head up and ignore the few people who watch me. I walk through the winding paths of the District smothered by my own thoughts. But it's not nothing unusual, just my common thoughts; worrying about Tobius, he was my first Victor, I worry about him constantly, and I can't help but be angry at Greer, she's been around less and less often lately, it's having an adverse effect on him. I know he can be a pain in the ass, but he's lovely, and is genuinely funny. And if I can put up with him, his twin sister can.

I think of Woosley, virtually alone in the Capitol, with only the newest Victor to accompany him. Andrea Phelan. She's a new addition to my thoughts. I don't know her, but I like her personality. That's if it wasn't all and act, but I don't think it is. She just seemed so… genuine. She makes me want to know her, and I think when she comes back that I'll like ehr even more. She's got such a determined attitude about her, especially with everything her family's gone through, that makes ehr very charismatic.

I stop in my tracks when I reach the Phelan house, it's just as Andy described. Only there's a guy in the front garden.

I take a few steps forward, "Hi?"

He turns, and I'm faced with someone I know to be her brother, he was interviewed when she was in the final six. He has short black hair, and gray eyes with a curious green sheen to them. It's so starkly different to Andy's attributes that it manages to take me by shock a little. Looking at his gray eyes I can't help but think of the virtually impossibly large green eyes his younger sister possesses.

He puts down whatever was in his hands and makes his way towards me. "Johanna Mason?"  
I smile, "The very same."  
He holds out his hand, "Jonothan. Phelan." He has an easy smile and I clasp his hand quickly.  
"It's nice to meet you." I say to him.  
"You too, Johanna."  
"Call me Jo." I smile.  
Jonothan nods, "Jo. Anyway, what are you doing here, I'm sure it isn't just to meet me,"  
"That'd be correct," I frown and wonder if I should tread carefully around him, "I have some news about your sister's condition."  
The smile leaves his face. "Andy's condition? What about it?"  
I move on my feet, "Could I um, come in and tell your father at the same time. It's something he should hear,"  
He nods, "Sure."

He walks towards his front door, and stands to this side whilst holding it open for me. I walk forward, smiling a thank-you as I walk past him.  
"Dad?" Jonothan calls when he walks in, and I hear footsteps making their way through their house in response.  
His father walks into the living room, not looking up until he's stopped.  
"Johanna." He smiles slightly, and I give him one in return.  
"Mr. Phelan, it's good to see you." I hold out my hand and he grasps it.  
"She says she has some new about Andy." Jonothan says behind me. I look over my shoulder at him and frown slightly.  
"That's right." I look at his father, who's facial expression has fallen solemnly.

"Would you like to sit down?"  
I sit on the edge of a small sofa, a family heirloom I presume, whilst Jonothan hovers nearby, and his father sits on a wooden chair in front of me.

"As you know, Woosley Borden, Andy's mentor, has been telling me of Andy's progress - and lack thereof." I unbutton the first few buttons of my thick coat, and fiddle with my fur hat in my hands. The faint smell of pine leaves wafts around me. Everything in this goddamn district stinks of it. Fucking trees.  
"Yes, you've been here a few times." Mr. Phelan says to me in return.  
I turn to Jonothan, "I'm not sure if you've been informed of the extent of Andy's injuries."  
His eyes flicker towards his father. "Just the basics. Just that she can live with them."  
"Well the Capitol can make any injury a Victor sustains something they can 'live' with. Doesn't mean it's going to be easy." Physiological and Phyiscal scars the like. I think of Tobius, and Crescent, and Beetee back in 3, and Chaff in 11. Victors prevail and survive. Just to throw it back in the President's face, that his twisted Games don't destroy everything.  
The two of them frown at my statement. I look up with wide eyes, "Sorry."

Mr. Phelan smiles warmly. "It's okay, Johanna." he pauses, "Last time you told me about her fingers and about the surgeries performed on her head and stomach."  
Jonothan turns to his father in shock, "What surgeries?"  
Great. Looks like I'm going to be stuck in a Phelan family argument.  
"I didn't want to worry you, so I didn't tell you-"  
"Tell me that my younger sister is undergoing surgery?! How couldn't you have told me?!"  
"Jonothan! I choose what to tell you, understand?" His voice is stern, and it makes me look up to see his son in silence, his mouth a thin line.

They're silent for a moment, and I consider coughing or something, but instead I turn to Mr. Phelan.  
"Should I just tell Jonothan what I told you?" I'm hesitant, but he looks at me as if remembering I'm there, and takes a moment, but then nods.  
I turn to Jononthan, and decide to try to make it quick, "Woosley, her mentor, has been telling me what's been happening to Andy in the past two weeks, so I can tell you guys."  
"What's happened with her?"  
I run a hand through my choppy hair, wondering where to start. "You have to realise, she lost a lot of blood. That's mainly what even caused the coma, she didn't have enough around her brain, and once there was enough there, she just didn't wake up. But there was also damage to her head and stomach, which didn't leave any long term affects, but they still played a hand in it."

I frown as he takes this in in silence.  
"Her hands are another matter. Most of them were destroyed."  
I pause. "Destroyed?" Jonothan asks hesitantly. I nod.  
"I think around six of them have been replaced, with metal."  
He closes his eyes for a few moments, but nods for me to continue. "And some of her palms, it's on both hands. There's also a lot of scaring on her hands, face and stomach. But I don't really know the details."

I finish, and the room is enveloped in silence. I don't know what to do, because I don't know what Jononthan's going through, and what's acceptable to say.  
Finally, his father breaks the silence. "And what did you come her to tell us, Johanna."  
I blink, remembering my reasons for coming here.  
"She's awake."

* * *

**_I finally wrote the Johanna pov you guys wanted! So I'm sorry this has taken a while, but I've never written in Jo's pov, and had no idea what i wanted to do with it, so I was stumped really. I mean I've been writing Andy and Woosley for a year, and I knew what I wanted to write for_****_ Jonothan and Gads so this was harder, but I hope I pulled it off._**

**_I need to say a HUGE thank you to the lovely imawin4U, who Tobius Karuna belongs to! I hope you liked my characterisation of hi, and you understand the little ticks I put in that you provided! _**

**_And I mentioned another District Seven victor called Cresent, who belongs to iHillery, and he WILL be coming back when we're prominently in District 7 later, so watch out for him and Tobius! _**

**_So, if you want me to put a District 7 victor in, send in a description, I don't mind how vague it is, I'll fit them in :) AND I've decided I want some of you guys to come up with a Victor from ANY District, because I need some, and I'd like to include some of the ones that you guys come up with! _**

**_Replies:  
Graceaga: Wow you're literally one of my favourite reviewers, what you say makes me so happy! Yes, I didn't want to Games to so drastically change Andy's character (at least not straight away). Seriously?! You like her more than some of the CANNON characters?! Thank you omg, that really means a lot, considering loads of people dislike her character. Yes, Andy plays piano :) And piano!Andy will be coming back, rest assured! I know what you mean, it's kind of a metaphor for the dark and light parts of her personality, the gentleness of piano music and the harshness of axe-throwing. God you just make me so happy man, and your guesses will have to stay unanswered for another chapter :)  
anonymous: Have I given her too many layers? Is it hard to understand? And you shall find out what that little cliffhanger is soon :)  
mtdelaney: Their 'feelings' ;) All I can see is wait and see...  
MaximumAngel1: She can still manage though, believe me! Omg that made me really sad :( I wish I could play piano man, if I could do one thing without having to learn, it'd be piano in a heartbeat  
LoopyToucan: Ah, someone else has realised my true nature ;) AND I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU WAIT LONGER! I guess my work is done then :) I hope you like Woosley more, he's interesting to write :)  
TheBiohazardVictim: i like to hurt you lou, it makes me happy. PIANO SCENE. all the cliffhangers!  
_**

**_Okay so me and Lou have decided that every 10th reviewer (ie 50, 60 etc) can give me a character, quote, subplot, whatever you want, for me to fit in. (On the condition it doesn't get too overwhelming.)_**

**_Now I have to let my inner fangirl out_**

* * *

DID YOU SEE THE VAMPIRE ACADEMY TRAILER OH MY GODS IT WAS SO AMAZING AND PERFECT AND IT SHOWED SO MUCH BUT SO LITTLE AND GODS THEY HAVE UNIFORMS AND JSUT DON'T TOUCH ME DID YOU SEE CHRISTIAN AND LISSA MY BABIES I JUST CAN'T DO N T TOU CH M E.

* * *

did. you. see. sea. of. monsters. i cRIED SO MUCH IT WAS AMAZING AND JUUST DONT DONT MAN IT WAS HEARTBREAKING AND PERFECT AND GODS ANTHONY HEAD AND THEY CHANGED EVRYTHING SO IT WAS CORRECT ADN FIXED THE HORROR THAT WAS THE FIRST FILM I JUST

* * *

Okay I'm back to being the calm fanfiction writer now so read and review! :)


	6. I have a soul to save

_**''As yet I have a soul to save,  
uprightly, uprightly;  
though troubled with despair,  
I cannot find to set my mind,  
so lightly, so slightly,  
as die before you be there.''**_

_William Shakespeare - Much Ado About Nothing_

* * *

''I don't understand,'' I say to Angela dismissively, flicking through the test paper she made me do absentmindedly, "What did I do wrong?"

A strange expression crosses her face, and she sighs, sitting down on the chair that up till earlier today Woosley had been occupying. He'd told me that it was about time he spoke to Johanna, one of the other victors that he appeared to be particularly close with, saying she was his mentor. He'd said that he thought that she'd like me, not that it would really matter if she didn't, it's not like it'd really bother me, she'd be the one who would have to put up with me.  
Woosley had been somewhat reluctant to leave my side, I think he had made excuses for a while to stay here with me, I ended up telling him to go. But honestly, nothing's going to happen to me while I'm in a hospital.

I offer the paper to Angela, and she takes it gently and paws through it. She apparently finds the page she wants and shows it to me. It was one of the slightly more difficult ones, and next to my spider writing I see that she's made some illegible notes that mean nothing to me. Something about two out of ten, I think.  
She points to the answer I've provided, and I frown at the few pieces I've crossed out angrily, big messes of black ink and graphite pencil, next to absentminded doodles when I lost interest.

"How did you answer this?"  
A sudden sense of nostalgia passes over me, and I remember teachers asking me similar questions before being labeled a delinquent and something to give up on.  
I pull the paper out of her grasp and notice as Angela watches me carefully, watching my every movement, every breath and furrowing of my brows.  
I frown as I read the question.  
"You just do what it says backwards and then use the numbers." I shrug and pass it back to her .

She looks at me mutely, her mouth slightly open. "How did you know that?"  
I shrug again, " I don't know." I reply incredulously.  
"You don't know?" She sounds exasperated, and I'm anxious to find out what's wrong with it.  
"What's wrong with it?!" I ask. She bites her lip for a moment, which just further infuriates me. "Tell me!"  
"You shouldn't know this!" She exclaims suddenly, and I jerk back slightly in shock.  
"What?"

Angela clasps her hands together tensely. "We give this test, the exact same one, to every Victor who suffers injuries like yours, injuries which could affect the brain, and everything it controls. This question-" She taps a perfectly manicured nail on answer in question, "is rarely left answered. It stumps people. Out of the forty-odd victors who have had this test, around ten have answered it. Do you know how many get it right?"  
I feel my mouth grow dry, and I frown slightly, "I don't understand," I repeat.

"Do you know how many get it right, Andy?" She repeats more sternly, her lips drawn into a thin line of rose coloured lipstick.  
I shake my head slightly, and despite myself I start pleading in my head that Woosley will come in soon, this conversation is becoming dangerous. "How many?" I say, my voice lower than a whisper.

Angela remains silent for a moment, and my tongue is like sandpaper, nesting uncomfortably in my mouth. I become acutely aware of my surroundings and little things in those few quiet moments. The air becomes stuffy, the pressure of the too-serious conversation pulling down, making it thicker, thick enough to suffocate me like smoke. I can hear the scratch of my horrendously metal fingers on the bedspread, and I can see Angela's elongated lashes flutter quickly on her lids.

I can feel a pain blossom behind my eyes.

"Three. Including yourself." She says finally, and my frown grows deeper. A scared, nervous laugh escapes my chapped lips, and I put a metal hand to my mouth. It hovers near my skin, not daring to touch it.  
"Isn't that meant to be good? That I'm okay?" I say, and for some unknown reason, I know this isn't true. Something isn't normal, and I'm just kidding myself.

She sighs. "Andy, the reason it's left unanswered is because it's too complex for an ordinary person to understand," Her fingernail hits the paper again, "You shouldn't understand this." She shakes her head, a nervous smile crossing her lips, "Really, at your age, you shouldn't understand half of the things in this paper you got correct. But you did."

Before I realise what I'm doing, I get out of the hospital bed, and the hours of lying awake catch up with me, and I grasp the end of the bed as fatigue attempts to drag me down. Angela gets up, reaching towards me, but I put a hand out quickly,  
"No!" She stays up for a few second, but then slowly sits back down. I bite my lip silently, and try to hold my own weight while I think to myself.

I've always prided myself on my self-surity, how well I knew myself, how I could always depend on myself and no-one else, but now the only thing that travels around my dreary head is that I don't understand, and can't understand, anything. It's too much to be thrown at me on top of hours of restless nights and awful memories of the arena.

For a moment the memory of me embedding my axe in the midst of Fawn's chests flickers in my mind, the coppery smell of blood, and the way it shone in the light. Me turning around triumphantly, before feeling a mace being thrown into my own skull. I can feel it again, the spikes crashing into my cranium, the look on Gads' face as I could feel the sticky weight of my own blood marking it's way down my face. I can almost taste the blood in the back of my throat again.  
Was all that pain for nothing if I now can't even depend on myself anymore?

I decide to fall back on my talent of being a smarts. "So?" I attempt to shrug, but have to clasp the headboard again to remain upright. Falling and showing how weak I was was something I didn't want to happen, under any circumstances.  
Angela's eyebrows raise up, but she shakes her head slightly. "You can't just shrug this off, Andy-"  
"Why not?" I cut her off, "I shrug everything off. I shrugged the bloody Hunger Games off, for crying out loud."  
"Because you just can't!" She says, her voice unnaturally loud and shrill. It shuts me up. "Don't you know what this means?" Her hand hovers near the papers.  
"No." She swallows. "It means you're smart, Andy. Really smart."

I blink at her, refusing to take in what she's said. The silence in the room is offending. "Well then you must have fucked up, because I'm not smart. I'm the least smart in my family, I don't even pay attention on school anyway, so-"  
"Andy." She cuts me off this time. "No. You can't ignore this. You can't pretend this hasn't happened. This is conclusive."  
My hand grips the headboard more forcefully and I feel my eyes get larger, and I don't know why, but I know this isn't good news. Angela knows it too. Something isn't right.  
"So.." the words seem thick, and dull in my normally sharp and quick-witted mouth. "You think I'm smart." If I don't say it, it isn't real, "How smart?"  
Angela sighs. "You'd be at home in District 3."

I frown, and despite myself I can feel tears in the corner of my eyes.  
"But what-" The door opens, cutting me off, and both mine and Angela's heads whips towards it immediately.

"I've just got off the phone with Johanna, man she talks a lot, anyway, she-" Woosley stops once he's turned around and takes in the picture before him. He frowns silently for barely a second, before he rushes towards me, his hand resting on my arm.  
'What's wrong?" He asks, he eyes full of concern. I find myself focussing on the cool icy blue of his eyes. Maybe in an attempt to distract myself. I stay quiet, and just blink for a few moments.  
''It's the test."

* * *

_**...Shit. I am so so sorry**_** _that I haven't updated, but I just started school again, but I'm in Year 1, so I"m doing my GCSEs this year and my school's being crazy with homework, and I've just found it hard to get into this mindset, so I really am sorry. And I'm sorry it's so short, but this whole ~results~ thing is heavy stuff, and I didn't want to smush it all into one chapter. Oh! A few things happened in my life, I got an A in my English GCSE and a C in my Maths! I've also gone up to a blue belt in kickboxing! Yay!_**

**_So remember that every 10th reviewer gets to give me _****_a character, quote, subplot, whatever, for me to put in. And remember that I'm still accepting Victors for later in the story! _**

**__****_And omg, did anyone see the City of Bones film?! I LOVED it! Considering it's one of my favourite books, I was really pleased with what they've done, I thought it was very well done, and the amount of quotes straight from the book was amazing! If you like the books and haven't seen it, go see it now! But it sucks that they paused City of Ashes, hopefully they'll start it up again soon.  
Are any of you Vampire Academy fans? The new stills and Gush! Urgh, it's too much. You should totally check of the VA blog I help run (vaupdates) on tumblr! It's really cool!_**

**__****_So has anyone figured out why this isn't good news? Give me your thoughts!_**

**__****_Replies:  
anonymous: I hadn't considered doing a Jonothan pov, but I'll try to fit it in one of the next chapters. Sorry it took so long to update!  
LoopyToucan: You'll get to find out the rest soon!  
Victoire Collins: Wow. Thank you so much! That means a huge amount, people like you are what keeps me writing!  
Graceaga: Thank you! Well, I think in the books you never get to see Jo in a natural setting, she's always fighting for her life, so hopefully that's what you're seeing! I'm trying to bring more depth to her character, because she is so amazing. They'll meet soon, don't you worry! :) I'll try to write more from her pov, she's really fun, and bringing in little references to the real trilogy is really fun. Getting the brotherly aspect of JOnothan was very important to me, I'm happy you picked up on it :) Thank you so much!  
MaximumAngel1: IT'S SO GOOD, ISN'T IT?! And yeah omg, it's kind of funny considering how different the characters are, but Leven portrays them both perfectly.  
_**_**avengingthebroken: Stop changing your name, it's confusing. My fab is very good, isn't it? You bring me such joy but I'm too lazy to give you a real reply so.**_


	7. Fear is the mind-killer

_**"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."**_

_Frank Herbert_

* * *

Woosley sits next to me as I stare at the floor, knowing if I over-think this I'll get angry, and when I get angry, bad things happen. Things like trying to stab people with pencils when they mention my older sister.  
I can tell that he wants to put his hand on my back or something by the way it moves slightly every now and again, but it ends up remaining on his knee.

"This isn't good." Angela says, but it's somewhere off in the distance, I've pulled myself out of the conversation, I think Woosley's opted to talk for me.  
"Why not?"  
I look at my hands, so clean and shiny. The metal parts glimmer slightly in the light of the overly bright overhead lights, and my fingers trace over the scars of metal that grace my hand.  
I can tell by the atmosphere that they're arguing over something, and have decided to ignore my or something, who could really blame them. I was nuisance enough before the Games, let alone after.

"I don't care." I hear myself say, in an emotionless voice. I continue looking at my hands, until I see Woosley's hand lightly grasp mine.  
"What do you mean?" He asks me, and I look up from our hands, to his face.  
"I mean I don't care about this thing, it doesn't matter to me." I pull my hands away from his. and stand up, his eyes don't leave my frame.  
I turn to Angela, who's been silent for a few moments. She watches me with a frown.  
"I can just ignore this, right? Just act as though it never happened? It's not a huge thing, right?"  
She sighs, "It's a big thing Andy." An expression flickers over her face that I can't figure out, but whatever she's thinking about, she decides on what to say.

"You're a threat."  
I look at her for a moment before putting my hands on my hips and walking to the nearest structure. I rest my elbows on it and out my head in my hands.  
"Oh my god, I've won the Hunger Games, I shouldn't have to deal with this."  
"A threat to who?" I hear Woosley ask.  
"The Capitol, President Snow, anyone who thinks you're in a good enough position to oppose them, and get supporters."  
"And I guess a victor is a good enough position?" I ask without looking up."  
"Yes."

I sigh, and turn around and lift myself ontop of the table I was leaning on.  
"Are you okay?" I hear Woosley ask me. I promptly ignore him.  
"Why doesn't this happen to anyone from 3?" I ask Angela, "those victors must be smarter than me."  
She nods, "Some of them, yes, but that's expected. You're not. A lot of them don't have the physical strength to win the Games, like Beetee-"  
"He won by electrocuting the other tributes, that's why he has glasses, it fucked up his eyesight. They use their brains to win." I say.  
"Exactly," Angela says, "You, on the other hand, didn't. You used your skills, both axe wielding and manipulative."  
I look up at her in silence, in shock. Manipulative, is that what people think of me?

"You were just a teenage girl with a skill for axe tossing and quick thinking. Now you're a genius."  
I put up a hand, "Urgh, don't say that, it makes me cringe just thinking about it."  
Out of the corner of my eye I see Woosley smile to myself.  
I sigh. "So basically, the president is so out of his comfort zone that he's scared a thirteen year old girl is going to take his place because not only can she slice and dice, she also has brains." I shrug, "That doesn't bode well for the fate of the nation."  
Angela makes an exasperated noise, "This isn't the time for joking around."  
"I'm not joking, it really doesn't bode well."  
She puts her hands on her hips and behind her Woosley's smile grows wider.  
"Andy. You have to decide what to tell him."  
I roll my eyes, "It doesn't matter, it's not like he can do anything."  
Woosley frowns behind Angela, "Why not?"

I raise an eyebrow "I'm the youngest victor ever recorded. I'm a bloody marvel. I'm untouchable. He can't do anything to me because I'm a fan favourite, the Capitol loves me."  
I jump off the table. "Looks like he's stuck between a rock and a hard place. I think I'm the rock in this scenario, I'm really not sure."  
I turn to Angela, "So basically, soon the President is going to look at my files and find this out, right?" She nods. "And then you predict that he's going to get annoyed?" Another nod. I shrug, "Let him. There's nothing I can do to stop him, and he can't do anything to me."

An uncomfortable silence fills the room, one that gives me chance to think about what's happening to me. A few weeks ago I was just a teenager with a bad temper and a fucked up family, now I can be considered a threat to the president of the country. How does this happen? How does my life change so much simply because I killed a friend instead of dying from a mace to my stomach. I can feel the spikes protruding through my flesh, and the blood pooling in the back of my throat. I can feel my head caving in, and the pain from feeling of my fingers slowly dying, slowly becoming useless and scarring me for life.

"Why don't you just stay quiet?" Woosley says, breaking my self-pitying thoughts, "There are plenty of Victors who people forget about, they just stay silent over the years. You can do that."  
I look at him for a moment, the kindness in those almost gray eyes, but shake my head. My lips draw into a thin line.  
"I didn't get where I am by being a victim." I lift up my hand, and look at the way the metal glides over my flesh, hiding imperfections as easily as makeup, but on a more drastic way. I'd bet anything there were other ways to hide my scarred hands and missing fingers, but they chose the most obvious way, the way that would hurt me whenever I look at it, the way that would weigh me down for the rest of my life.

"Are you okay?" Woosley asks me. He's sitting next to me, on my hospital bed while I flick through an examination paper and he watches the Capitol tv.  
I look up at him, drawing my eyes away from the questions, and meet his. He's frowning, and the level of concern in his eyes almost knocks me off my feet. "Fine." I smile slightly at him, "Are you?"  
I can see his eyes study my face, "I think so." He pauses, "It's hard to concentrate right now."  
I blink at him, frowning, "Why?"  
He shakes his head, smiling, and whips his head away so he faces away from me. I lean forward slightly, smiling at his actions. "A few different reasons."  
"Like what?" I ask him.  
His head doesn't move, nor does his posture, but his eyes meet mine. "The lights in here for one thing, can they turn them down ever?"  
He grins at me, and I push him away.  
"You're such an idiot."  
"And you're a genius."  
I cringe, "I said I didn't like that!"  
"Did you hear me say I cared?"  
The mischievous smile placed on his lips knocks me off guard, and I remember where I am. I'm in the Capitol, I'm not here to have fun.  
An icy tone fills my voice. "Well I do."

* * *

**_Yoooo I'm sorry for not updating lately, I've been in a bad place with school and mental stuff, I've got my GCSE mocks next month and I have to do well for my study leave later this year, and I have to start looking around sixth forms sooooo, life is hard right now, haha. But I couldn't not write anything about my favourite dysfunctional 14 year old :)_**

**_I can't write any replies yet, I've had to do this quickly, sorry! But review and tell me what you think! _**


End file.
